


Threads

by SparklingDragonTears



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 150_prompts, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Red String of Fate, Talia Hale & Claudia Stilinski Friendship, Talia Hale does not approve, Unresolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 10:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19355377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklingDragonTears/pseuds/SparklingDragonTears
Summary: Prompt 45: "Why do you look at me like that?"Soul mates walk through space and time to find one another.The Red String of Fate may be tangled and frayed, stretched and worn, but it can never be broken.At times, it may seem impossible to find, but it will always guide two hearts home.--A reimagining of the meeting of Stiles and Derek.Stiles dreams of the boy with dark hair and dark eyes all his life. That morning in the woods finally gives a name to the man he's always known.





	Threads

**Author's Note:**

> Number 45: "Why do you look at me like that?"
> 
> Stiles is magical. He can see the man on the other end of his soul string. He walks through dreams, and feels the presence of his soul mate, even though the other man can't.
> 
> I hope you like it.
> 
> Enjoy.

Stiles lay across the couch as Scott blasted aliens crossing the tv screen. Stiles watched as his best friend chewed on his lower lip absently, tilting with his controller to avoid the monsters he was fighting. His mind was going a million miles an hour and he couldn’t keep from picking at his fingernails. Scott twitched every time Stiles’ nails clicked, as though he were snapping in his ears.

“ _Stiles._ ” Scott paused the game and turned around, glare softening when he saw the faraway look in his best friend’s eyes. “Hey, what’s up?” Scott had learned long ago not to ask if Stiles was ok, knowing that ‘I’m fine’ was always on the tip of his tongue.

Stiles sighed and flopped backward to stare at the ceiling. Scott heard his heartbeat, unsteady as it ever was, but nothing abnormal. He leaned backward casually, watching Stiles’ face. He had become a master of waiting out the other boy.

“I need to tell you something.” He finally said shakily. Scott nodded wordlessly. Stiles took several breaths before continuing. “I have… a feeling, about Derek Hale.” He glanced down to his friend nervously.

Scott looked to the ceiling thoughtfully for a moment.

“You don’t think he’s dangerous?” Scott asked, but it sounded rhetorical. Stiles nodded agreement. “It doesn’t seem suspicious that coincidentally he’s back after years, at the same time as a murder?” He didn’t sound accusatory, however. Stiles shrugged, but said nothing.

The boys were quiet for a few minutes, both staring at nothing as the repetitive game music droned quietly through the room. Scott listened as Stiles’ nails clicked with anxiety and his unsteady heartbeat hammered away.

“Do you trust him?” He finally asked. Stiles swallowed.

“I know it sounds crazy, but yeah, I do.” Neither mentioned that they didn’t know anything about him besides the awful news a few years ago. Scott nodded.

“Ok.” Simple as always. If Stiles thought something was true, Scott accepted it as fact.

Stiles lay across the couch as Scott unpaused his screen, blasting aliens crossing the tv screen. He decided that for the time being, Scott didn’t need to know that there was any more to Derek Hale than what everyone knew of the secretive family. He wasn’t sure himself what it was, but it was undeniable, he knew Derek. The punch to his gut when they’d met eyes was as disorienting and overwhelming as deja vu. 

—

Since they’d learned the young Hale was back in town, he seemed unavoidable. His presence seemed to be everywhere Stiles went. In the gas station getting snacks, Stiles knocked over a chip display when the leather-clad man walked through the door. Derek looked toward the commotion, raising an eyebrow, but Stiles looked quickly away, scooping the fallen bags onto a shelf before scurrying out without a purchase. 

When Stiles went to the library, Derek sat, buried in a small pile of books at a table hidden in the corner. Derek looked up when Stiles walked in the door, catching Stiles’ surprised eyes. Stiles froze for a second, watching the man watch him. He swallowed and looked away, trying to get on with his business, pretending he didn’t feel eyes on him until he left the building.

One morning, Stiles was running late for school, but still felt the need to grab coffee for him and Scott before he could manage algebra. He hurried into the coffee shop and ordered, impatiently leaning on the counter and eyeing the pastries, when he noticed a familiar reflection in the glass. The boy slipped from leaning on the counter and barely righted himself before spinning around to see a familiar dark eyebrow raised in his direction. Face flaming, he offered an awkward smile before turning back and grabbing his order, rushing out the door without another glance.

When Stiles began to notice the pattern, he couldn’t see it any other way. The grocery store, football games, on his way driving through town. He was sure he was going crazy when he thought he saw the man in the shadows at Lacrosse practice. It wasn’t that he felt unsafe; any time he saw the man, he was going about normal business, sometimes didn’t even notice Stiles in the same space. Stiles wouldn’t normally mind, Beacon Hills was a small town and you were bound to see people you knew everywhere you went, especially him, being the sheriff’s son. The problem was, every time they met eyes, even for the briefest second, Stiles felt a yank in his stomach, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep from being pulled in.

—

“Have you ever heard of the Red String of Fate?” Stiles asked Scott at lunch one day, talking around the fries in his mouth.

“Dude, gross.” Scott pulled a disgusted face and shoved his soda toward Stiles. The boy gulped down a swig and swallowed his fries.

“Story, have you heard it?” Stiles prompted again, staring at Scott hopefully. Scott’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. Stiles spared him from thinking too hard. “It’s a Chinese legend where the gods decide two people are fated to be together and tie an invisible red string between them. They’re connected and destined to find one another, no matter what.” He watched Scott’s face as he thought about it.

“If the string is invisible, how can it be red?” He asked. Stiles rolled his eyes and threw a fry at him. Scott used his new super speed to catch it in midair, grinning and popping it in his mouth.

“It’s the gods, they can do whatever they want.” Stiles decided. “Anyway, do you believe that’s a real thing?” He was watching Scott carefully, and the boy scowled.

“What, like soulmates?” Stiles shrugged in reply. Scott looked around self-consciously and lowered his voice. “Since… all of _this_ started happening, I don’t know what to believe anymore.” It took a minute of Stiles nodding quietly, before something clicked and Scott narrowed his eyes. “Wait, why? What happened? Did you meet someone?” He demanded.

Stiles licked his lips nervously, glancing around. No one paid them any mind, as usual.

“I just… I feel like something is supposed to happen.” He didn’t say who or why, but he hoped the vague answer was typical of himself and Scott would let it slip by. Scott looked thoughtful, assessing his friend silently.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but maybe we should talk to Derek.” Stiles’ eyes went wide before he schooled them back to normal. Scott heard the jump in his heartbeat. “I know, you don’t like it, but he has a handle on this kind of thing.” 

Scott watched with a worried look as Stiles fidgeted with his lunch tray. He licked his lips and swallowed several times before nodding.

“I guess, yeah.” He reluctantly agreed. “He would know better than us.” 

—

Stiles walked through the clouds, sun cascading down over him, washing him in rays of gold and red. There was absolute silence, but Stiles felt music in every step he took. He wandered through the sky, feet light as the air, drawn to something he couldn’t see. He felt compelled forward like a magnet, some force beyond his control moving him through space.

As the clouds parted, his steps began to feel more solid, ground appearing beneath his feet. The sun began to shift, rays of light disappearing behind the rising mountain as Stiles continued to walk. When all he could see was red red red, Stiles looked around, catching eyes glowing the color of the setting sun. He saw the blinding grin, bright in the rising twilight. Derek raised his hand in a half-wave, a trailing thread of red dangling from his fingertips. 

Stiles sat bolt upright in bed, blinking into the dark of his bedroom, fingers twisting at a fray he couldn’t see.

—

_D says we can meet this afternoon_

Stiles stared at the text for a good ten minutes, trying not to hyperventilate. It was Saturday and there was no reason he couldn’t. Scott sent an irritated emoji a few moments later.

_I know you saw my txt, y or n?_

Stiles gripped the phone tightly. Would it make any difference what Derek had to say? Stiles was pretty sure he knew exactly what this was. He had researched everything the internet had to say about it and it only pointed to one conclusion. A conclusion Stiles wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to face. 

_Nah bro, its ok. Pretty busy tonight. Another time maybe._

Scott frowned. Since when did Stiles have Saturday night plans without him? And since when did he not jump at the chance to learn about something obscure?

_You sure? You seemed pretty interested before_

Scott stared at the tiny _Read_ indicator, but no reply message popped up. He sighed, hoping Stiles wasn’t doing his own form of research that was likely to get them both in trouble. A short reply came through and Scott just shook his head in confusion. 

_Its fine, see you tmrw_

Stiles switched off the screen on his phone and tossed it on his bedside table. He pulled his pillow over his head and hid from the morning sun streaming in the window. A bird sang a light little song outside in the trees and he listened, drifting into a half-sleep, a memory pushing it’s way to the surface.

_“Mama! There he is! My friend…” Five-year-old Stiles pulled at his mother’s hand through the farmer’s market toward where he saw a familiar mop of dark hair._

_“Scott?” Claudia asked, looking around for Mrs. McCall._

_“No,” Stiles scoffed indignantly. “Scott doesn’t get up early on Sunday.”_

_“Of course, how silly of me.” his mother muttered to herself. His small hand slipped from hers and he darted forward through the crowd. Claudia tried to keep up without knocking into anyone. “Stiles, where are you going?”_

_Stiles finally skidded to a halt in front of a rock, which held a young boy perching on it. The boy appeared several years older, but not at all bothered by the tiny whirlwind running up to him._

_“Hi!” Stiles said brightly, waving enthusiastically. Claudia caught up to him, slightly out of breath, and recognized the dark hair and rounded cheeks of the older boy._

_“Hello.” The boy replied. He looked between the two of them, but couldn’t keep his eyes from the bouncing child for long. Claudia noted the affection in his eyes as he smiled to her son._

_“Where is your mother?” She asked gently. He looked around a moment, his nostrils flaring. He pinpointed her somewhere behind her and nodded in the direction. Claudia turned to scan the crowd, quickly locating the dark locks flowing behind the tall, regal woman. Talia turned the moment Claudia spotted her, face lighting up when spotting her old friend._

_“Claudia!” She called, waving with a glass jar in her hand, filled with some sort of honey-colored spread. She quickly paid the vendor and headed toward the trio. Sometime in the 30 seconds this interaction took, Stiles had taken it upon himself to crawl up the large boulder and plop himself beside the older boy. His little legs dangled over the edge with a good two feet before the ground._

_“Stiles!” She scolded, but her little boy had stars in his eyes as he gazed at the Hale child. The older boy grinned back at him, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him from falling._

_“He’s alright, Mrs. Stilinski.” Always a child of few words, the same as she’d remembered him years ago._

_“Claudia, my goodness, it’s been ages!” Talia twirled into her space, blustered being too strong a word for someone who carried herself so elegantly. She hugged Claudia with her arms full of bags clinking with jars. “And little Stiles,” She turned toward him. “I can’t believe you remember Derek. You must have been barely walking the last time you saw us.”_

_Stiles frowned, an exaggerated pout on his lips._

_“Why would I forget him? I see him every night.” Claudia paled a little, Talia considered him quietly, and Derek tilted his head curiously. The young Stilinski turned his attention to Derek, and broke their silence. “Do you still play soccer? I bet you’re the best one.”_

_Derek ruffled Stiles’ hair and humored his questions while the mothers drew back and had a quiet conversation amongst themselves. The boys sat chatting until Stiles started to yawn, the warm afternoon creeping in._

_“You should take a nap.” Derek suggested. Normally, Stiles would protest heavily, but the smell of the trees, the singing birds, and Derek’s hand petting through his hair convinced him it couldn’t hurt to lay his head down on the older boy’s lap._

_No sooner did he hear a soft chuckle, that the singing birds floated into his dreams, young Derek running behind the trees, beckoning him to follow. He waved his hands, red ribbons tied in bows around him, twisting through the trees, curling all the way across the forest toward Stiles’ own hands, mingling in a dance to music only his heart could hear._

—

Stiles sat in his Jeep, idling in the lot to the preserve. He knew the Hale property backed to the fields, and he wasn’t sure exactly where Derek was staying, but every time they met him, he’d specified this location. He drummed his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. He hadn’t thought about what he was going to say, if he were going to say anything at all.

He’d known for years that this wasn’t normal. If they hadn’t been thrown into this supernatural shit show, he was sure he would have kept writing it off as insanity until he died. He stared out at the trees, remembering what everyone had assumed he’d forgotten.

_“Mieczy’, please listen.”_ Her voice echoed softly with worry. _“You mustn’t talk about those dreams.”_ He could still feel her hand resting gently against his cheek. _“People… they become afraid of things they don’t understand.”_ Her eyes bore directly into his as she’d knelt down to his level. _“I’m so sorry, my love.”_ Stiles’ eyes burned at the memory. _“She doesn’t want this for him.”_ He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, sniffling softly. _“He won’t remember you.”_ How could they expect a child to understand? _“Please drink this, Mieczy’, it will help you forget.”_ And it did. 

Until it didn’t.

Stiles pushed down the anger at the betrayal he felt. He remembered the first time his dreams flashed with red again, a burning bright memory long forgotten. His mother had died, his father laid passed out throughout the house. He’d cried himself to sleep. And then _he_ appeared. The dark haired teenager watching him from the corners of his dreams, flashes of red washing away the dark. He couldn’t get closer, couldn’t change course of his dreams, couldn’t even reach out, but Stiles knew he was there.

Some nights were shadows, stars, water, all dark black ink. Some nights were paint, skies, fire, all bright hot red. Some nights he was alone. Some nights he was in a dreamscape he’d never imagined, watching characters he didn’t know play out stories, mundane and fantastical. When he grew older, he’d learned how to find him. As the teenager became a young man, Stiles learned to recognize the weighted presence. 

When the town turned upside-down at the Hale fire, Stiles’ dreams turned dark again. He was alone for a long time, in his average, hormone-fueled dreams. He hadn’t made the connection then.

It was only the past year he’d started to catch glimpses, shadows moving heavily, an occasional flicker of light. He’d recognized the familiar presence at once. He’d welcomed it, hoping it was enough to draw the man from the shadows. He waited, every night, rewarded only sporadically with the striking dark hair and piercing eyes. The fleeting moments were both barely a taste and more than he could hope for. 

And now the face had a name.

Stiles stared out into the woods. He took a deep breath and flicked off the engine. Shoving the keys in his pocket, he jumped out and slammed the door before he could change his mind.

He tried to stamp down the feelings of foolishness as he wandered the forest trails aimlessly. There was a vague sense of direction toward the meadow on the far end of the trail system. He fiddled nervously with the keys in his pocket, alternating between staring down at his feet and up at the forest around him.

When he arrived in the field, he had no plan. He crossed quietly, listening to the birds and his own footsteps. He hadn’t told Derek he’d be there, but he felt him anyway. He knew the man would find him.

“Stiles, right?” A low voice called from off to his left. He jumped, looking over to the tree line. Derek stood, casually leaning back against the bark of a particularly large oak.

Stiles felt the ground drop out from under him. His heart slammed into his ribcage and his knees almost buckled. Derek frowned, pulling himself away from the woods and coming closer to the teenager. Stiles felt helpless as Derek stepped into his space. He could only look over him, frozen, dumbfounded. Sure he had seen him before, but never this close, never alone, never _heard his name on his tongue._

“Are you alright?” He asked, still frowning down at the teen. Stiles forced himself to snap out of it, dragging himself mentally away from drowning.

“Yeah, yep. Just fine. Great day out, yeah? How are you?” He rambled quickly. Derek tilted his head curiously and Stiles had to close his eyes at the familiarity of it.

“Hey,” Derek’s voice was unexpectedly soft and Stiles couldn’t help but open his eyes. “Why do you look at me like that?” 

Stiles faltered, glancing away. He knew Derek wouldn’t remember. His heart was only held together by the red ribbon promise, frayed from the trauma of their lives, tangled from distance and magic, but still there, keeping him from falling apart.

There were so many answers on his tongue. An infinite amount of ways this moment could play out. Stiles thought the words he’d ached to speak for so long.

_I’ve seen you in my dreams._  
_You’re him._  
_Please remember me._  
_You’re mine and I’m yours._  
_We have always been._  
_I know you._

And he knows, standing in this field with the man who holds the secrets to Scott’s power, his best friend’s life, the mysteries of this town, that he can’t. He looks into the dark eyes, swearing he can see a shine of red in the afternoon sun. He steels himself, pushing back against deep drag of his entire being. He knew there was too much at stake, that too many lives had kept them apart, and it was for a reason. 

“I just… Scott needs your help.” Stiles stuttered out, looking down at Derek’s shoulder.

If they found each other once, they would do it again. 

“He was too nervous to ask you, so it’s up to me.” He swallowed hard, glancing up into Derek’s face. He was met with a confused frown.

_Soul mates walk through space and time to find one another._

“I know you don’t like us, but we need your help, and I’m sorry to bother you, but I kind of don’t want my best friend to kill someone.” He resorted to his rambling, a certain comfort in a too-quiet world. Derek regarded him for a moment. He watched Stiles’ nervous twitching movements before rolling his eyes and pushing past him. Stiles felt the deep ache in his chest at the contact, but shoved it away into the shadows.

_The Red String of Fate may be tangled and frayed, stretched and worn, but it can never be broken._

“Come on, then.” Derek grumbled, stalking back down the paths toward Stiles’ Jeep. “I won’t be responsible for some reckless teenager’s destruction.” Stiles followed, a thousand questions burning his tongue, curiosity and annoyance burying the agony.

_At times, it may seem impossible to find, but it will always guide two hearts home._

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled for a long time deciding whether to make a happy ending or a sad ending. I'm sorry, it's so hard not to cause angst to my favorite lovelies. <3
> 
> Thank you as always to everyone for taking the time to read.
> 
> Till next time,  
> -J X


End file.
